Not Quite James Bond
by DinoDina
Summary: Jack meets a young man on the train who is reading James Bond and introduces himself as Ianto. AU oneshot. Janto fluff.


The man next to him was reading James Bond. Now, Jack wasn't entirely sure of that: he couldn't see the cover, but one of the sentences referred to a man called Bond, seemingly the main character.

Jack surreptitiously stretched his neck to catch a few more words, but they didn't offer more information. He'd never been much of a fan—though the films were a great source of eyecandy material. He'd never seen someone actually reading the books. Assuming that this man was, of course.

Jack sat back in his seat and looked forward, trying to be natural; he'd spent too much time with his nose in his seat-partner's book. It was a well-loved book, with worn but clean pages—a favorite, or bought used. Jack could appreciate the beauty of something old: he had an RAF greatcoat he wore when it was cold and he wasn't working; he couldn't wear something so conspicuous when he was, even if it looked hot.

Looking at the man's book was weird—looking at the man, however… Jack had eyes, and those eyes were telling him that the man was gorgeous—and Jack never shied away from looking at someone worth admiration.

He was slender, but well-built, filling out his suit perfectly—for all Jack knew, it was tailored—and was about as tall as Jack himself was, if the slightly uncomfortable way he sat was anything to go by.

Handsome hands—yes, _handsome_, though clearly used to some sort of work—turned a page, and clear blue eyes travelled over the words. Intelligent eyes, if Jack was being fanciful—which he was.

He hadn't had the time for romance recently, or even for more casual things, swamped both in London and Cardiff. Especially now, in the wake of the collapse of his partner company.

Momentarily forgetting about his seat partner, Jack fought the urge to sigh. It had been a long week.

He'd liked London, once upon a time. Before he'd become a leader. When he'd first been placed in charge of the Torchwood Company in Cardiff, Jack had bemoaned the assignment. He'd been used to the freedom of being a freelance agent for the company but looking back at his past showed clearly that he'd been working up to his current position for years. He'd resented Torchwood for so long…

Espionage wasn't all James Bond, with exotic locations, quick fixes, and beautiful women. For a second, Jack wanted to say so to his seat partner. For his blue eyes, dark hair, and built-in elegance, the man knew _nothing_!—but Jack knew better than to let his anger out on a stranger.

Still, as the man turned the page, Jack couldn't help but turn to face him. "You know, it's not all like that."

"Like what?" A wry eyebrow was raised.

Jack licked his lips under the penetrating stare. "James Bond. Spying's not all like that."

A quirk of the lips. "Oh, I know."

Jack doubted he really knew; there was no chance he was also a spy!—_also_, because Jack himself _was_. As much as one could be a spy when operating on home soil. More of a counter-espionage agent than anything. Calling himself a spy was more glamorous. But the man didn't look upset, merely amused, so Jack stuck his hand out. "Captain Jack Harkness."

A spark passed through the man's eyes as he shook Jack's hand. "Ianto Jones."

Oh, the way his lips formed around the vowels!

Jack had to resist the urge to jump him then and there, etiquette be damned. "My pleasure."

"And mine, Captain."

Jack felt himself melt on the spot. There was something in the smile: it was almost a smirk, almost teasing, and yet more bordering on flirtatious. Jack returned his best leer—best, because Ianto Jones deserved nothing less. He let go of Ianto's hand reluctantly and adopted a casual position. "So tell me, Ianto Jones, what brings you to Cardiff?"

"Nothing in particular." Ianto shut the book, marking his page with a finger. "My job just went to shit, so I was thinking of looking for something similar closer to home."

"Tell me about it." Jack felt his frown deepen.

Ianto frowned. "What's the matter?"

"You could say that my job went to shit, too." He didn't add that it had happened in an explosion of corruption and carnage; Ianto didn't need to know that. "One of my company's branches. I've been dealing with it in London, it's good to finally go home."

Ianto nodded. "There's no place like Cardiff."

Jack looked down at the book. There was the cover: he'd been correct.

Ianto's eyes followed his gaze, then looked up at Jack again. He really _was_ desperate: one look, and he was imagining asking Ianto out—and he rarely did relationships!—imagining going with him to the cinema to watch the aforementioned franchise, imagining sitting together in a restaurant.

"So tell me, Captain: what's your experience with espionage?"

It could have been an honest question—hell, it probably was—but Jack could only stammer a lame reply, disarmed by Ianto's curious but teasing tone and the knowledge that he was the sole focus of Ianto's blue eyes.

No spy Jack personally knew was that good at disarming a companion. Not that Jack was putting up much of a fight, but he was used to being the flirt, not the flirtee.

"What about you?" Jack asked, then, regaining some equilibrium. "What's got you so interested in James Bond?"

"Who says I'm 'so interested'?"

"I do, now come on."

"Very well." Ianto laughed good-naturedly. "It's hard to pass by a well-dressed man who happens to be an unforgettable hero excluding so much charm he has to fight lovers back with a stick."

Jack snorted. Not to be vain, and momentarily ignoring his multiple self-loathing complexes, but the description fit him perfectly. The playful glint in Ianto's eyes—it was almost uncomfortable, as if Ianto was following his train of thought.

"So what brings you to Cardiff, Captain? It's clear you're not from there."

Jack had spent enough time in the city to know that Ianto _was_ from there, or near enough, though the way Ianto called him 'Captain' caused his skills of observation to let his skills of imagination take the wheel, and Jack was halfway to imagining what Ianto could call him in bed—where he was most welcome to be. "I work there."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. By the bay." Jack bit back a grin at that. Being a spy had its perks, and the current perk he was thinking of was the secret underground base that was located under the Mermaid Quay. "If you get there early enough in the mornings, the sun over the water is… it's magnificent."

"That sounds lovely."

"It is." Jack had missed seeing it when he was in London, had missed the friendly faces of his coworkers—his friends—and the sense of purpose and enjoyment he got from his job. "What about you?"

"My workplace? Well, up until a week ago, it was in a skyscraper. Standard office space, but… well—" He gave a short laugh and said with a grin: "It was really high."

"You don't like heights?"

"I like the view."

"Ever been in a plane, then?"

"Not like that, no." Ianto shook his head. "Nothing fancy, just a quick business trip. No time for enjoyment."

"I used to fly," Jack said; as opposed to his secret underground base and the position of secret agent that came with it, flying gave a completely different sense of freedom and beauty. "Not commercial flights. Small planes, you know. _That's _where the view is."

"I can't even imagine." Ianto's face softened.

Jack almost invited him for a spin in the small jet he still owned. Maybe later.

Jack didn't click with people so easily, a habit bred by years and years of working in an industry filled with deception and with a knack of providing operatives with various traumas—which he was working through, thank you very much. But the conversation continued: about amazing views, plane schematics, the benefits of train travel, internationally acclaimed films, embarrassing teen years…

They were ten minutes out of Cardiff when Jack said, "So where are you heading when we arrive?"

"I was thinking of hitting up the Roald Dahl Plass." Ianto threw him a funny look. "You know it?"

Jack grinned. "You can say I basically live there. What're you thinking of doing there?"

"I thought I might start job-hunting."

Jack wasn't aware of any open positions at any of the businesses that came out onto the Plass, at least of positions at companies at Ianto's professional level. He wasn't going to ask, however, lest he put his foot in his mouth and completely ruin his chances of seeing Ianto again.

"That sounds like a plan," Jack said quickly, feeling that he'd been quiet far too long. "If it's not too much, do you want a ride?"

The small smile Jack had grown so fond of during their ride came out again. "Why would that be too much?"

"You never know what might happen," Jack said mock-seriously, "especially since I'm thinking of asking you out."

"Just thinking of it?"

"Well, what about it? Dinner? A movie?"

Ianto didn't immediately respond, and Jack's mouth went suddenly dry. Had he missed something? Not to be vain, but the answer to that question—to any question of that sort he'd ever posed—was supposed to be an immediate 'yes'.

"Yeah," Ianto said eventually, and Jack felt like he could breathe normally again. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good, that's… that's good." Jack grinned at him. "So it's not too much? Driving you to the Plass?"

"Not at all, if you're going there, too." Ianto grinned back, and Jack's heart soared. "Unless you've got one of those gas-guzzling SUVs."

"As a matter of fact, my SUV is very energy-efficient." It had to be, with the modifications he'd gotten for it.

Ianto laughed. "Alright, then."

Ianto busied himself with putting away his book, pulling out an overstuffed backpack from under the seat in front of him and straining to open the front pocket. Jack winced as the book barely fit inside it, some of the pages and part of the paperback cover bending; by the look of displeasure on Ianto's face—and what he'd previously observed about the care of the book—that hadn't been the goal at all.

"That's all your stuff?" Jack asked.

"The rest's in storage until I can find somewhere to live," Ianto responded just as Jack was about to apologize for intruding. "And a job."

"I hope you find something today," Jack said in an attempt to be supportive. He knew how demotivating it was to be met with rejection and didn't wish it on anyone, least of all the man he was hoping to date.

Ianto's eyes twinkled. "Hopefully. Thank you."

Jack liked getting off the train quickly and efficiently in order to get past the crowds and the traffic that inevitably followed. He hoped Ianto would be sympathetic to that goal; he seemed level-headed, which had little possibility of lending itself to dawdling… and the horrible bore of after-train city traffic.

When Ianto came out after him and settled at Jack's right side against the crowded platform, Jack was ready to kiss him. Not only because he'd been planning on doing just that following their date—Ianto had turned out to be no dawdler, which hopefully meant that they had even more in common.

Jack's _not_ gas-guzzling SUV waited in the parking area where he'd left it. The Cardiff police department had been negligent enough to tow it before—Jack wasn't exactly a people-pleaser when it came to business—but he managed to hide the sigh of relief.

Jack opened the boot and threw in his own bag, then offered to take Ianto's, as well. But even as he reached out for it, he saw a look pass over Ianto's face—and it wasn't a good look.

"Ianto?"

"I... I can't do this." Ianto took a small step back. "Jack, you've been great. And _this_ has been great, too. But I should probably tell you something before... well. Alright. So. I... may or may not be here to ask you for work."

Jack furrowed his eyebrows. He had an impressive face—as told to him by multiple lovers but also by the agent who had trained him—and could be imposing when he wanted to be. He wasn't yet sure if he was going for completely imposing yet, but he was prepared.

"What do you mean?"

"Torchwood." Ianto had whispered it to preserve the secret, but continued in a normal voice: "That's where I worked in London, but whatever your issues with it... I don't know anything else. It was my life. I figured I'd come to Cardiff and—I don't know, stand on the Plass until you come out and tell me to go away. But I wanted to ask for a job. Work for _your_ Torchwood. Start again."

"I see." Jack put his arm down. "I'm a good judge of character, Ianto, but I've never trusted London. Why should I trust _you_?"

"Because you're a good judge of character."

Jack hid a smile. "Maybe." He looked Ianto over. Not much had changed from when they first sat next to each other on the train—he was tall, strong, and dressed in an impressive suit; he had dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and a gorgeous mouth; he was a gracious conservationist and deadly flirt. It was unfair how much Jack was attracted to him even knowing that Ianto was Torchwood. "I have a question."

"Yes?"

"The things on the train—was that all for the job?"

"No, of course not!" Ianto's eyes widened minutely. "I... I knew who you were, but I didn't know who you _were_. I recognized you, but I didn't even think to—"

"Good." Jack wasn't sure if Ianto was quite telling the truth, but he was confident enough. He reached for Ianto's backpack again. "I'll throw it in the boot, and we can get back to that date we talked about?"

"Really?"

"If you're still interested."

"Of course I'm still interested—and you know it."

Jack laughed lightly: he _had_ been pretty confident. "Then that's all settled," he decided. "I'll give you a few days, a week... you can get used to the city. But then I'll be expecting you at work. And in the meantime, I'd be happy to show you around?"

"I'm _from_ Cardiff. Near enough, anyway."

"I was actually just asking if you'd want to go out some more. If tonight's not a complete disaster."

"Oh." Ianto looked down, put his hands on his hips, and looked up again. "I'd like to. Disasters notwithstanding, of course."

"Of course." Jack closed the boot and walked around to the side of the car, happy that Ianto had followed and was now sitting in the passenger's seat. "Do you still want to go to the Plass?"

"About that... I only wanted to go to the Plass to ask for a job."

"But now you have a job."

"Exactly. I suppose you could always drop me off at a hotel and pick me up later for the date."

Jack grinned. "That's a good idea. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me, too."

Jack switched gears and tore out of the parking area—carefully. He was a careful, if a bit erratic, driver; it was an artform to balance the two, but if Ianto's incredulous yelp was anything to go by, he was succeeding. Ianto seemed to be impressed—at the very least, Jack had made an impression.

And he intended to make many more as the days went by. He'd look up Ianto when he got back to work—and he was sure that Ianto had done the same to him prior to boarding the train—but the impression wasn't one-sided. Ianto was quick on his feet and seemed like a decent human being, if his reticence to trick Jack was anything to go by.

It wouldn't be his first time having an affair—dare he say: a relationship?—with an employee, and it hadn't ended well before, but Jack didn't shy from risk. Besides, he had a good feeling about this.

He spared Ianto a sideways smile and drove to the hotel he would be staying at—only the best for Ianto—and began planning the date. The troubles—work, explaining to everyone else exactly why he'd hired Ianto, navigating the relationship—would come later, and Jack couldn't wait to defeat them.


End file.
